


Glowing

by donnersun



Series: Roman Candles [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Magic, Marijuana, Marking, Possessive Behavior, Shotgunning, Werewolf Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-05-20
Packaged: 2017-12-12 11:36:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donnersun/pseuds/donnersun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles brings home a duckling for a bio project and Derek has a hard time sharing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glowing

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this [tumblr post.](http://teenytigress.tumblr.com/post/50577740745/so-this-guy-in-my-english-is-doing-a-project-for)
> 
> Thanks to sadtomatoFF and fr333bird for pre-reading and sapphirescribe for the beta.

“Don’t eat my duck,” Stiles says without looking up when Derek rolls through his window. Derek pauses to look at the bed where Stiles is sitting with his back up against the headboard, legs spread in a V, staring at a baby duck that’s staring right back at him from the middle of the bed. 

“Why do you...no. Nevermind. I don’t even want to know. But why would you assume that I would eat a baby duck?” 

“I know for a fact you chase rabbits. I’m taking this bio class over the summer where we have to do a project on animal behavior. Crispy here is gonna imprint on me and I’ll become the mama duck,” Stiles replies, still not looking up at Derek. 

Derek, who hasn’t seen him in the three days since he’s been home for summer break, and a month before that. Derek, who got hard on the way over thinking about smoking up and then lazy fucking that has now apparently been replaced with staring at a baby duck. 

“You named your duckling Crispy?” is what comes out of Derek’s mouth, though. 

“Hey you better appreciate Crispy. If someone hadn’t dropped him and his brothers--Peking and Baked, by the way--off at Deaton’s this project was going to consist of me seeing how long it would take to train a werewolf to sit, stay and shake paws using only hand cues and positive punishment.” 

“Please tell me Peking and Baked are not currently with any other members of my pack,” Derek replies, scrubbing a hand down his face. 

Stiles looks up for the first time. “Come on, dude. You know as well as I that Scott could not resist a pet duck named Baked. And Erica might have Peking but you did not hear that from me.” 

Derek doesn’t even know why he tries, most days. Instead of arguing, he just slips out of his shoes, crawls onto the bed, and sits cross-legged in front of Stiles, the duckling in between them. Stiles smiles, tosses Derek a small drawstring pouch and then goes back to staring at the duck. Inside the pouch he finds papers and weed, thank fucking Christ, because the situation definitely calls for a much less sober Derek. He rolls a joint (and catches Stiles staring at his fingers a couple of times, so fuck you, you boyfriend stealing duck) and then scoots up so he’s sitting next to Stiles. 

“Hey,” Stiles says softly once Derek is next to him. He leans over and kisses the corner of Derek’s mouth with a pleased hum and Derek wraps a hand around the back of his neck. Stiles bites at Derek’s bottom lip and they kiss then, properly, and all of Derek’s annoyance at the stupid duck, his neglected dick, and the nearly two months of missing Stiles disappears. 

“Lighter?” Derek asks as he pulls back. Stiles hands him one (it’s got a groundhog on it and Derek snorts. They have a running competition to see who can come up with the stupidest, most random one. Derek is still in the lead after finding an entire set of “Majestic Wild Animals Against a Purple Sky Backdrop” complete with rearing white stallion, cheetah and wolf, thank you very much) and he lights the joint. Derek inhales and pulls Stiles back to him, exhaling into another kiss. 

Weed always makes Derek’s instincts level out. One solid hit and he sees everything with a clarity that only the full moon can match. It’s normally not something that he ever worries about losing control of, but when there’s a sudden peep and a flurry of small-prey-scented dander and feather dust circling around him, well. He does like to chase things and he refuses to apologize for it, okay? Luckily even his wolf knows not to bite things that Stiles finds important so he manages to not chomp down on the duckling when it comes waddle-flailing towards him, squawking about as intimidatingly as a baby duck can manage. 

“Crispy no!” Stiles shouts as he reaches out to grab the duck before it can get any closer to Derek’s fangs. Crispy just continues to peep, spit, and flap his heart out as Derek desperately attempts to get his mouth situation under control. He’s honestly pretty shocked at himself when a growl escapes from between his canines. Stiles gasps in a wounded sort of way and Derek tries to apologize via facial expression because he doesn’t trust himself enough to actually open his mouth. Crispy is still trying to scratch the hell out of him with his little webbed toes and Derek decides that the best course of action would probably be to remove himself from the situation. He tucks and rolls off the bed and lands with a thump onto the floor. 

“Please take the duck somewhere else,” Derek manages to say through his teeth. Stiles leans over and glares down at him, the duckling finally placated and tucked up under his chin. 

“It was tubby time anyway. Think you can manage to not chew my shoes up while I’m putting him in the bathroom?” 

Derek has learned over the years that it’s best to leave Stiles’ rhetorical dog jokes rhetorical, so he just closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose while Stiles goes into the bathroom with the duck. He listens as Stiles puts water into the bathtub, then to the sound of the duckling splashing and finally to Stiles’ soft footsteps back across the hall. When he opens his eyes, Stiles is standing above him, relighting the joint and trying not to smirk. Derek stares up at him, watches as the muscles in his neck contract when he inhales, notices that his pupils are blown and that there’s a flush spreading from his neck down past the collar of his shirt. 

“Are you turned on because I got into a fight with your baby duck?” Derek asks. 

“Well, it wasn’t really a fight, let’s be honest. Crispy shut your shit down,” he replies as he sits down and straddles Derek. He holds the joint up to Derek’s lips and Derek inhales, arching up into Stiles and wrapping an arm around his waist. They finish the joint, breathing each other in and grinding up, down, and around until Derek is pretty sure he’s going to jizz his pants. He sits up in an effort to both remove some of the layers of clothing between them and pull them up onto the bed, but Stiles presses himself even closer and leans in to bite down on Derek’s neck, right where it meets his shoulder. 

“Fuck, Stiles,” he groans. 

“Exactly. I want you to fuck me. I want you to fuck me stupid. I wish you could fuck me until I was knocked up with your pups. Is that what you want, Derek? Is that why the duck made you lose it? Because it’s not yours?” Stiles punctuates his words with a twist of his hips and goddammit if Derek isn’t coming, untouched, completely clothed and totally unashamed. Stiles goes back to biting his neck and making pleased noises against the underside of his jaw. After Derek comes back to Earth he takes a minute to consider what Stiles said and just thinking about it makes his spent dick twitch in his pants. He groans and arches back up into Stiles’ space. 

“It doesn’t freak you out? That I want that?” he asks, surprised at how vulnerable he sounds. 

“Shit man, I brought it up first. No it doesn’t freak me out. And if saying it makes you react like that?” 

Derek thinks this is another rhetorical thing so rather than let Stiles finish his thought he stands up and deposits him on the bed before stripping out of his clothes. Stiles shimmies out of his too and palms his cock. Derek doesn’t even try to stop the whine that starts in the back of his throat, lets it leak out, high pitched and needy, before brushing Stiles’ hand away and replacing it with his own. He leaves marks across Stiles’ collar bones, satisfied when they bloom bright red and hot, his wolf thrilled and sated and howling _mine, mine, mine_ in his head. One more twist of his wrist and Stiles is coming apart in his hands, chanting _yours, yours, yours_ and they melt into each other against a pop and a spark of magic that escapes Stiles’ fingertips as he wraps his hands around the back of Derek’s neck and pulls him close. 

They come back to themselves and each other slowly. Derek listens to Stiles’ heart slow down and Stiles absentmindedly runs a hand up and down Derek’s ribcage. Pack and family and safe and _mate_ are all coursing through Derek’s blood but it doesn’t feel frantic or rushed or anything but right. His wolf is stretched out, belly exposed, tongue hanging out happily and that’s definitely something Derek wants to get more familiar with. 

“You’re preening,” Stiles says, poking him in the ribs. 

Derek just pulls him closer and snuffles into his hair with a sigh. “Maybe. Happy.” 

“Okay, caveman,” Stiles laughs as turns and kisses Derek’s neck. “I should go get Crispy. He’s been in the bathtub for a while.” 

Derek growls (on purpose, this time) and Stiles laughs again. “Fine. I’ll leave him in the tub for now. In retrospect, maybe letting a small prey animal imprint on me wasn’t the best idea.” 

“No, I’ll be fine. Just want to take you up on that fucking you stupid suggestion first,” Derek smirks as he rolls on top of Stiles with a thrust of his hips. 

“Well then get to it, Pops.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Stiles' groundhog lighter](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VJim4KiIFqM/SgWfmGgadHI/AAAAAAAAAf0/JQXTslvBkZo/s400/special.jpg) and [Derek's winning collection.](http://www.akwholesale.com/image/data/MOBIL/bic-animal-special-edition-50-count-481471707.jpg)


End file.
